


Tickets, Coffee and Bagels

by sarcasmandirony



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Officer!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 01:20:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasmandirony/pseuds/sarcasmandirony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is the speeding driver coming home after his first day of work and Derek is the police officer who spends his nights behind a billboard, waiting for infractors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tickets, Coffee and Bagels

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a really silly fic and this is my first time posting one here, so this might be really awful.

Stiles drived through the highway after his first day working in the lawyer’s office when the sound of sirens burst through the air, catching his attention. Looking through the rearview mirror he saw a police car tailing him, signaling him to pull up.

Stiles smacked his wheel. “ _Fuck_.”

With all the stress from his first day, he had forgotten he wasn’t in Beacon Hills anymore. The deputies here wouldn't give him a break for speeding just because he’s the sheriff’s son and they’ve known him since he was a little boy.

He sighed, pulling up and so did the cop car. Through the rearview mirror, illuminated by headlights, Stiles’ saw coming out of the vehicle an insanely hot guy that filled the police uniform in all the right places. He was wearing sunglasses, despite being night time and had a little shade of stubble that Stiles imagined brushing through his skin.

 _Fuck_ – He thought. _Focus_.

Stiles opened his window and felt the cold night air wander in. He really should think about fixing the jeep’s heater.

The wannabe male model Officer Hale who seemed to have been taken straight out of a police calendar, leaned towards the car just enough to peek through the window and into Stiles.

He removed his sunglasses, hanging them in his open shirt and Stiles’ eyes were instantly drawn to his mild hairy and very defined chest, gagging a bit in mere air. He felt like he was back to his high school years, trying not to cum at the sight of guys wandering naked through the locker rooms.

“License and registration.” Officer Hale asked, voice gruff and a expression deadly.

Stiles did just that, trying to take his mind of his high school fantasies. Which was kind of hard to do when a guy taken out of his wildest dreams was standing right in front of him, in a cop uniform of all things, leaning against his car.

What the fuck even was Stiles’ life?

After fidgeting through his glove compartment, looking after the documents and managing to drop half of its content into the car’s floor, he finally found them and handed them over to Officer Impatient, if his expression was anything to go by.

“Here you go.” Stiles was able to say through a forced smile.

“You’re aware you were driving way past the speed limit, right?” Officer Sourface told him, drily.

“You’re aware cars come with a speed meter, right?” Stiles threw back, without even thinking.

Officer Hale arched his eyebrows in surprise and then scowled his eyebrows hard and deep, in a way Stiles thought was humanly impossible until then, like he was pondering cutting Stiles’ body into tiny little pieces and dropping him on a ditch somewhere.

However, Derek said nothing and his eyes simple fell to Stiles’ documentation.

“What happened to your hair?” Officer Obtuse asked, looking up at Stiles, his voice even more dry and cold than before.

“It grew. You know? It’s something hair does. If you don’t cut it every once in a while, it _grows_.” Stiles said back and _oh my god!_ What was up with his brain to mouth filter today? It was like he was asking for trouble, exhibiting a kind of behaviour that would require spanking in another time and age. And, woah, he was not going _there_.

Officer Hale gave Stiles a death glare.

“Do you actually want me to give you a ticket?” He asked, furiousity clear in his tone.

“And there you go again, with the stupidly obvious questions.” Stiles retorted and, once again, _what the hell?_

Officer Hale’s expression hardened even more, his scowl getting even deeper, if that was even possible and he actually growled a bit, which did strange things to Stiles' body, as in A-R-O-U-S-A-L. “You know what? Fuck it!” He said, throwing Stiles’ documents back into the car, opening his ticket’s book, writing one, throwing it at Stiles’ face and walking away.

“Have a nice day right back at you.” Stiles muttered, picking the ticket up from and scowling at the number, shoving his head out the window. "You have me the maximum penalty, _really_?" He shouted at Officer's Jerkface back.

Officer Grumpy Pants turned his head around. “Yeah! To make up for your maximum level of sympathy.” He grunted.

“Well, that makes two of us.” Stiles shouted back, throwing the ticket to the passenger seat and driving off, although the sight of Derek’s fine ass wobbling from side to side while Derek throttled back to his patrol cruiser didn’t escape his sight.

\---

Derek was sitting in his patrol car, behind a billboard by the side of the road, quietly staring into the deserted road when Stiles’ jeep ran past at full speed. “ _Shit_.” Derek sweared. It had been a week since he had pulled Stiles’ car over, the most impertinent, obnoxious human being he had ever met (without mentioning she who shall not be named, but Derek usually tried to forget about her existence).

He had seen Stiles’ jeep run by and obeying the speed limit every day since, until today.

Turning the engine on, the sirens of hell loudly echoing in their wake, he drived off hot on his tail, signaling Stiles to pull over.

The strange thing was, even before Derek turned on the sirens, Stiles’ car was already loosing speed, like he was waiting for Derek to show up. The idea was, of course, ridiculous, though not entirely unpleasant, which kind of left Derek a little put out.

When Stiles pulled over, Derek stepped out of the car, walked over to Stiles’ jeep and leaned towards his window.

Before he could even say a word, Stiles was shoving a hot cup of steaming coffee in his face.

“Take it.” He said.

“What is this?” Derek asked, suspiciously arching an eyebrow.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “It’s coffee. After water and probably milk, it’s the most common drink on the planet… I think. I’ve never really looked it up. I probably should, though. Not that you care about that, so never mind. Yeah, coffee has caffeine, which is going to help you stay up longer which you kind of need.” Stiles babbled and Derek found his eyes lingering over Stiles’ lips.

“I’m still giving you a ticket.” Derek said, though his tone, due to some reason unknown, was softer.

“Be my guest.” Stiles replied, taking the ticket out of Derek’s grasp with his free hand as soon as he finished writing it.

“Now, take the coffee before I have to shove it in your mouth.” Stiles threatened.

Derek scowled. “I’d rip your throat out.” He said, as a warning, but took the cup out of Stiles’ hold anyway, whom looked quite satisfied with himself, and took a sip.

“Which flavour do you prefer?” Stiles asked.

“Black.” Derek said, walking away from the jeep.

“A thank you would’ve been nice!” Stiles shouted from behind him.

“Hu-uh.” Derek said as he took another sip of his coffee. It was not his favorite, too much sweet and not enough bitter, but it wasn’t half bad either.

Stiles muttered to himself as he closed his window, driving off.

“Idiot.” Derek said while stepping back into his patrol cruiser, a smile forming in his lips.

The next day, Stiles exceeded the speed limit again. This time, none of them said as much as a single word, Stiles simply smiling while taking the ticket from Derek’s grasp and handing him a cup of black coffee.

The event repeated itself every day until it became somewhat of a routine.

Derek always kept a straight face during their quick encounters, though. Only when the younger man was gone and Derek was safe inside his cruiser, drinking a cup of his favorite coffee after what was becoming his favorite event of the day (not that he’d ever admit it) did he allow himself to smile.

\---

Stiles looked from the road to the pile of bags full of pastries in his passenger seat, still not believing how or why in the hell he had spent so much money and bought every little tasteful looking thing that damn coffee shop had to offer.

Off course, when he was in line, waiting to place his order, it had seemed like a good idea to buy something for Derek to eat. The poor man might be a party pooper but he spent his nights alone behind a billboard, doing God knows what (and Stiles' mind quickly jumped to sweaty and moany and very dangerous places it shouldn’t never go) with nothing to eat.

The problem was, Stiles didn't know Officer Furry McBrows’ FREAKING ATE, apart from the dreams of homeless orphans at breakfast.

And so, as not actually buying Officer McBroody anything, because, hello, he already has enough expenses with the tickets he’s getting daily, didn’t cross his mind, he ended up spending much more money than he really should on a person that probably doesn’t even like him and that he will never see apart from during a few seconds on the side of a curb. And said like that, it actually sounded a lot more dirty and exciting (although embarrassingly impossible) than it really was.

When Derek stepped out of the billboard and signaled Stiles to stop, they proceed to their routinal exchange of ticket (now the minimum charge) for a black coffee.

“Are you throwing a party?” Officer Hale asked, arching his eyebrows when his eyes found the mess that was Stiles’ passenger seat, filled with bags and pastery boxes.

 “No, Mr. Obtuse." Stiles told him, mouth opening in a wide smile. "What do you like to eat with your coffee, anyway?” He asked.

Derek’s eyebrows furrow even deeper. “Stiles, you shouldn’t have.” Officer Furrowing Eyebrows said with a growl and he sounded kind of upset, which was not the reaction Stiles was going for, _at all_. How could someone get angry with delicious baked good? _Free_ delicious bake goods!

“Excuse me for trying to do something nice. I like to think that we’ve grown to be something more than just acquaintances. With me bringing you coffee every night and you not refusing to take it and even lowering my ticket’s fee. So maybe we’re not friends yet, but I’d like us to at least be something more and this is what trying to be something more means.” Stiles says with no idea of where did all that word vomit came from. He even growls back which seems to take Officer Sourpants by surprise. “So, just tell me what you like to eat with your stupid coffee.”

Derek rolled his eyes, shook his head and sighed heavily.

“Bagels.” He muttered.

“Let me guess, sourdough?” Stiles tried, looking for the bagels between the countless bags. When he finally found their respective package, he handed a bagel to Derek with a wide grin.

“I really think I should start paying you for this.” Derek said, uncertain, eyeing the bagel as if it might bite.

Stiles let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, right, you actually should, but not going to happen. Nope. This is actually an elaborate plan for you to owe me enough so, _when_ I commit a serious felony, I’ll have leverage.” He said, turning on the ignition and finding Derek staring at him with a wary expression.

“Oh, my god! I was kidding. The whole world isn’t out to get you, Mr. Conspiracy Nut.” And with that, Stiles drove off.

As Derek in his officer attire and the patrol cruiser get tinier and tinier in the rearview mirror, Stiles lets out a laugh and shakes his head.

Derek, a freaking police officer, likes bagels – sourdough bagels, to be exact. He was such a cliché.

\---

 “Wouldn’t take me on a date be cheaper?” Derek asked, taking the coffee and the bagel off of Stiles’ hands and handing him the ticket.

“Is that your way of asking me out, Mr. I’m Unable to Ask Straight Questions?” Stiles asked in return and despite Stiles efforts to hide it, his tone was hopeful.

Derek regretted the remark almost immediately. Of course Stiles would use that to make fun of him and, besides, even if Stiles would be serious about the invite, which he probably totally wasn’t, Derek wasn’t ready for a date just yet.

“Goodbye, Stiles.” He simply said, walking away.

But their current situation didn’t please him either. It wasn’t fair for Stiles to keep paying tickets just because he probably felt lonely for being new in a new town and not knowing that many people, wanting to spend some time in the company of another human being.

So, the next day, Derek tried a different approach.

He got out of his patrol car and walked over to Stiles’, taking the coffee cup and the bagel from the younger man’s hands, sipping a bit of the heavenly drink and giving a small bite out of the sourdough, enjoying Stiles’ confused expression while still holding an impatient hand up to Derek.

“Where’s the ticket?” Stiles asked, making grabby motions with his hand and he looked adorable.

“There’s no ticket.” Derek said after swallowing.

Stiles tilted his head. “There’s no ticket?”

“No, but only if you agree that tomorrow you’ll stop your car in the opposite side of the bill board  _without_ speeding, and hand me the coffee and the bagel personally.” Derek said, slowly, taking another bite.

Stiles bit the sleeve of his suit. “You mean, like a date?”

Derek rolled his eyes. There was that word again. “No, Stiles. Not like a date. Just two guys eating together in a car. You might even be the one buying, for a change, and bring something for yourself.” Derek said, walking away and leaving an open mouthed Stiles staring at him like he was seeing Derek for the first time.

“Ah ah, very funny!” Stiles said, dryly. “Look at me, I can make jokes _and_ scowl.”

Derek both smirked and growled to himself, enable to pick one, the guttural noise lost in the car’s roaring motor, dawning on him the realization that, when it came to Stiles, Derek didn’t really know just _what_ to feel.

\---

Stiles parked by the bill board and got out of the jeep, two coffees in one hand and one bag in the other. He walked over to the patrol car, juggling everything in one hand while failing to open the door when it clicks open and Stiles stepped aside, muttering a _thanks_ as Derek shoved the door open and leaned back into his seat.

Stiles got into the cruiser, handing one coffee to Derek and looking in the bag for the sourdough bagel, handing it over as well.

Then, opening a box, he grabbed the plastic fork and took a big chunk of the delicious and mouth-watering cake he bought because he seriously deserves a treat after yet another stressful day.

“That is more whip cream than cake.” Derek noted dryly.

“I like sweet.” Stiles muttered through his full mouth with a shrug.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Off course you do. Let me guess, your coffee is more milk and sugar and actual coffee?”

“Fuck you.” Stiles said in manner of a reply, poking out his tongue and taking another big chunk of his cake, chewing it open mouthed. “And this is food of the heavens, for your information, so don’t be a hater.”

Derek snorted, taking a sip of his black, soulless coffee.

When their eyes met again, Derek lifts a finger and quickly brushed it past Stiles’ nose, removing a bit of whipped cream that somehow got up there and taking it to his mouth, licking his finger and _oh my god_ , that shouldn’t be as hot as it was.

Stiles’ gagged and his cock went from half hard, which was really its natural state whenever he was in the vicinity of one Derek Hale, to a full hard-on.

Stiles threw the last piece of cake unto his mouth and chewed it with a bit too much conviction, drowning it all down with his coffee, drinking the entire thing in one go, trying to ignore how the temperature in the car had suddenly increased or how now there was an undeniable tension between them, that felt almost claustrophobic in the patrol’s car tight interior.

“Let’s listen to something with a bit more beat.” Stiles’ said, sick of the boring and monochromatic classical music that was blurting out from the patrol's speakers ever since he got into the car. He had to distract himself with something, _anything_.

His hand was already half way towards the radio when it was smacked away by Derek’s.

“Ouch!” Stiles complained. “What the hell, dude?”

“Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.”

Stiles mouth fell open and Derek shut it with a finger pressing up into his chin, skin burning beneath Derek’s touch. “Seriously, is that thing always open?”

Stiles’ narrowed his eyes. Derek was very grabby hands today and that was doing things to Stiles’ pants, things of a sexual nature. The fact that Officer McBroddy seem to notice his mouth enough to establish a pattern wasn’t doing wonders to calm down his dick either.

Stiles never before felt so close to assaulting anyone, let alone a police officer, with his tongue of all things.

“Fuck you.” Stiles said, shifting in his seat to hide the boner bulge shape growing in his suit pants, looking out through the window.

After an awkward silence Derek’s hand landed on Stiles’ leg, unconsciously tapping against the cruiser's flooring. “Would you stop with that?” Derek growled.

Stiles crossed his arms, pouting. It seemed everything he did today bothered Officer McJumpy. “Fine. I could leave if you’re enjoying my company so much.” He said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Derek sighed. “You’re kind of a difficult person, Stiles.” He said, brushing a hand through his hair.

Stiles’ mouth fell, _again_. “Because you’re a regular walk in the park, aren’t you? To be fair, aside from being ridiculously hot, you have absolutely nothing going for you!” Stiles shouted, waving a finger right into Derek’s face. Wow, why was he so angry all of a sudden?

Derek’s expression _shut_ and his eyebrows furrowed, furious. “If that is what you think, maybe you should just go.”

“Fine!” Stiles said, getting out of the patrol car and closing the door behind him with much more strength than was strictly necessary.

\---

Derek wasn’t expecting Stiles to show up after what happened yesterday. Calling it a disaster would be an understatement. Of course that when he saw Stiles’ jeep parking by his side, his expression widened in a smile and the relief he felt was more than he was ready to admit, and more than he expected.

When Stiles got out of the jeep and into the patrol cruiser, the smile was gone. It was too soon to let his guard down that much.

Stiles handed him the coffee and his sourdough bagel, the exchange followed by an awkward silence of Stiles staring anyway but at Derek.

“I’m sorry.” They both said at the same time, chuckling and Stiles nodded, taking a bite of his cake.

The tension that had settled between them lifted and they ate in a comfortable silence, only broken by the calm radio music and the beat of Stiles’ feet, tapping to the rhythm of some silent music playing in his head.

When they were finished with their snacks, Stiles’ fidgeted around his suit’s pockets and took out a deck of cards.

“Wanna get your ass kicked?” Stiles said, as a challenge, waving the deck around.

“You wish.”

“Oh, that little smug grin is going down when I beat you so bad you won’t know what hit you.”

“Hyperactive little brat.” Derek muttered, jokingly.

“Sourcop.” Stiles said back with a whip of tongue and they both laughed.

\---

Stiles and Derek were playing cards and Stiles was totally kicking Derek’s butt, by the way, although Derek wouldn’t ever admit, of course, because he was a control freak that always had to be on top, pun unintended but probably true.

And now Stiles was thinking about sex, because nowadays he was always thinking about sex like he was back to being a hormonal mess of a teenager whenever Derek and his impossibly ridiculous self are involved.

Of course that would be the moment where a car tries to park behind the bill board, the headlights blinding them and probably revealing his flushed expression.

When their eyes adapt to the headlights, Stiles saw a couple in the other car, their eyes widening with embarrassment and then fear upon realizing that they had stumbled into a patrol car when looking for a secluded place for a quickie.

Derek smirked and stepped out of the car. “I’ll come back in a minute.”

“You’re gonna give them hell, aren’t you?” Stiles asked while Derek opened the door.

“I would never.” Derek said, feeing innocence and lifting an eyebrow, closing the door with a wink.

When he walked over to the couple’s car and leaned over the window, Stiles saw that he was now wearing his most intimidating expression.

Stiles shook his head and laughed, feeling a bit sorry for the midnight lovers.

\---

“Can I ask you a question?” Derek asked.

“Like I ever ask you permission for anything.” Stiles answered.

Derek chuckled. “The suit.”

“What about it? Oh, god, I didn’t stain it with coffee or cake, did I?” Stiles looked down and checked out the suit with worry. “Because this is the only suit I have. You don’t imagine how much I have to bribe the drying place to get it ready from Friday to Monday. And I shouldn’t be telling you about bribing because, you know, are a cop.”

Derek tried not to laugh. “That’s not what I mean. You aren’t exactly a suit kind of guy.”

“Oh, right. Lawyer.” Stiles clarified. “And don’t look at me like that! I’m an awesome lawyer. I was the best in my class and I’m going to kick every other attorney’s ass in court. I will crush them and they’ll run out of the courtroom with their tails between their rears. You just wait and see.”

“If you say so.” Derek said dryly.

Stiles’ mouth dropped. “Are you doubting me and my professional excellency? That’s it. You know what? You’re invited to my first case, Grumpy Pants. Oh, yeah, you’re so on. I’m going to prove you wrong so bad that you’ll feel ashamed you ever doubted me. In fact, you’re taking me out on a date if I win.”

Derek weighed Stiles’ words, and Kate unwillingly came to mind. The thing was that Stiles was not Kate. He had to stop living in the past and start living in the present. And at least this decision wouldn’t have immediate repercussions.

He took a deep breath, gathering the courage to utter out a single word. “Deal.”

\---

Stiles was just leaving the city when his jeep starts to slow down, the motor’s roar weakening.

“Oh, crap! Seriously?” Stiles shouted, slamming the wheel when his eyes wandered to the gas meter, the arrow pointing to ‘E’.

 _Great_. It was night time and his car had just stopped in the middle of nowhere. His cell phone was dead and it was still a few miles until the billboard where Derek’s patrol cruiser was parked, which was _really_ far away but it was closer than the last gas station he passed along the way, so he really had no choice.

Stiles sighed.

He opened the jeep’s car, taking the coffee cups and the pastry's bags, locking the jeep up and placing a triangle a couple of meters from it. So, he was walking… in the middle of the night… through the uncharted forest… _Awesome!_

Once he began his march, a howl was heard in the distance, to which Stiles shrieked.

_He was so going to die!_

\---

Derek was sitting in his patrol car, eyes roaming between the road, the cruiser’s digital clock and towards the road again. Usually Stiles was here by now and Derek was trying to convince himself he hadno reason to worry. Stiles was probably just working late, again. It had happened before, there was nothing to be worried about.

That was, until someone knocked at the door of his cruiser and Derek held his breath, hand instinctively going towards his gun, startled, while his head turned towards the window, holding his gun up at the intruder.

He sighed of relief and a bit of frustration when he realized it was just _freaking_ Stiles with a wide smile waving spastically with one hand, the other occupied juggling the coffees and the pastries.

Derek furrowed his eyebrows as he opened the window, taking the coffee and his bagel. “I should pass you a ticket just for that.”

“I really scared you, didn’t I?” Stiles asked and the little shit actually looked proud of himself.

“I don’t get scared. I shoot.” Derek said, tone warning.

“Uhhhhhh.” Stiles said, pretending to be scared. _Great_ , now he was being mocked. “I should probably call the police on that. It’s dangerous having someone with your temper carrying a gun around.”

Derek rolled his eyes, growling. “What do you want, Stiles? And where is your jeep?” Derek asked, looking around. Maybe Stiles had come with the intention of startling him and had parked farther than usual.

“Oh, about that, I ran out of gas a while back and my phone died this afternoon, so I hope you don’t mind giving me a ride ‘till the closest station.” Stiles asked, making a face while he waited for Derek’s answer.

“Where?”

“A few miles back.”

“And you walked all the way here?”

“No. I teleported. I can teleport, you know? Actually, I could have teleported to the gas station by now, but I choose to come pay you a visit because you always ask me the cleverest questions and always offer the most warmest of smiles.” Stiles said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Derek rolled his eyes. Why did he tried to be nice? Oh, right, because he _cared_.

“Do you want to at least eat first?” Derek asked.

Stiles made a face at that and said nothing, walking around the police cruiser and coming into the car. Under the cruiser’s lighting, Derek noticed Stiles’ suit was stained brown.

“What the hell happened to your suit?” Derek asked, eyebrows shooting up.

“It’s pretty bad, isn’t it? I’ll probably have to steal a suit or something. And I always tell you when I’m about to commit felonies.” Stiles joked, laughing and Derek couldn't help it but joining in. “I tried to drink my coffee in my way here because it’s a pretty cold night and I hate cold and I hate cold coffee even more. So I drank it before it cooled. It turns out drinking and walking wasn’t the best of ideas. It would be no problem for a normal person, but my name is Stiles and the universe hates me. So I burned myself and stained my suit. The coffee cooled and I shook all the way here freezing cold and now it’s just uncomfortable.”

“I can lend you a suit.” Derek offered, trying not to laugh.

“Really? You own a suit? I mean, I bet you would look pretty hot in a suit. Wait, forget I said anything.” Stiles said and Derek rolled his eyes – _Stiles and his sense of humor._ “Why does a police officer own a suit, by the way?” He added.

“My sister got married a while back and I was her man of honor.” Derek said, throwing Stiles one of his most threatening looks, but it was useless. The younger man was laughing loudly and spazzing all over the seat. It was a good thing the coffee cup he was still holding had a protective lid. “I still have a gun.” Derek growled.

“I’m sorry!” Stiles shouted through some more laughter, which kind of nulled the apology. “The image of you in a dress just popped in my head. Officer Poop Face, bridesmaid.”

 “I wore a _suit_ , Stiles. And I’m either attractive or a poop face. I can't be both” Derek said, rolling his eyes yet again.

“Yeah, yeah. Enjoy your cold coffee.” Stiles said able to control himself enough to open the pastry package he was holding and taking a large chunk of cake into his mouth.

“Enjoy your stained suit.” Derek muttered.

\---

They were both walking to the register when Stiles caught a glimpse of Derek’s hand going into the tight uniform pants’ pocket, that totally brought out the best of his ass. Stiles suddenly found himself missing their initial encounters where, despite both of them always storming off, kind of mad at each other, Stiles always got a good view of Derek’s ass as he walked back to the cruiser through his rearview mirror.

Stiles shook his head, urging himself to focus.

Derek was already about to take a bill out of his wallet when Stiles lifted a hand to stop him. “I got this.” Stiles told him. “You already got me this far.”

Derek rolled his eyes at that. “Stiles, you’ve been paying tickets just so you can see me and you have been buying me food for weeks.” Derek said in a conversation ender kind of tone.

 “I’m paying!” Stiles insisted for no good reason but not letting Derek win this. Na-ah! So he took out his own wallet, fidgeting around for a bill.

Derek growled. “Could you be even more stubborn?”

“Look who’s talking!” Stiles threw back.

The register guy hummed. “I don’t care who pays, just hurry it up. I don’t have to listen to marital disputes.”

Both Stiles and Derek turned to him. “Shut up!” They said in unison, to which the guy threw his arms in the air and sighed in defeat, resting his shoulders against the counter.

Stiles looked back at his wallet, taking it out some cash when his wrist is grabbed by Derek’s tight grip.

“I’m paying…” Stiles began to say again when his eyes found Derek and he noticed the other man’s confused and slightly curious expression directed at Stiles’ wallet. _What?_ This was a rather expensive wallet Stiles’ dad had given him as a graduation present, a kind of a welcome to the working world. 'A man’s wallet instead of a teenager’s wallet' as his dad put it.

His eyes followed Derek’s gaze down at the wallet to find the photo of a young woman in her mid-twenties, smiling and looking fairly happy. Stiles’ found himself feeling both happy and sad, hurt and nostalgic.

When Stiles looked back at Derek, trying to hold back the tears he seriously didn’t need right now, Stiles saw him dropping a bill on the counter with a loud thud. “This discussion is over.” He said, grabbing him by an harm and taking him back to the patrol car and Stiles couldn't quite place his tone or the unreadable expression and much less the slight squeeze that Derek gave his arm and, despite lasting less than a second, Stiles would risk calling it _reassuring_ , although in a rude and caveman way.

Mr. McBroddy, ladies and gentleman.

\---

“Who’s the girl in the photo?” Derek asked.

Stiles looked at him with a confused stare before a glimpse of clarity fills his beautiful piercing brown eyes.

“My mom… She…” Stiles trailed off.

“I know.”

“You know my mom used to be a lawyer and that she is the reason why I became a lawyer too?” Stiles gave a dry laugh. “Someone is using their grumpy police status in a tad unethical manner.”

Derek rolled his eyes and although his curiosity had taken him as far as to stand in front of a computer screen, just an ‘enter’ away from satisfying his curiosity and doubts about Stiles reasons, he backed down. If he couldn’t trust Stiles, how could Stiles trust him? So he just pressed the exit button, repeating ‘Stiles is not Kate’ in his head as he walked away.

“I mean the other thing.” Derek said.

“Oh. How?” Stiles asked in a weak voice.

“Your face gives a lot of things away.” Derek said and for some reason, Stiles flushes red.

Derek looked back at the road, taking a deep breath. It was now or never.

“I had a girlfriend. She used me.” Derek blurted out. It was trade, really. It didn’t meant anything, or at least that was what Derek tried to tell himself until he felt Stiles’ hand resting on his neck, his long slick fingers brushing through Derek’s hair and his thumb drawing small circles on his neck.

Derek felt the heat of Stiles’ touch spreading through his entire body, like a wave washing over him and when he turned at the younger man, he was welcomed with a soft smile.

It meant everything.

\---

“Stiles.” Derek said, sounding grumpy.

Stiles looked up from his cellphone. “What?” He asked, picking up a pile of curly fries and stuffing them into his mouth. There was only so much cake a guy could eat, even if said guy loved cake a lot, like _a lot,_ before the mere vision of cake made him nauseous. Chewing at the curly cries, greasy, salty and soft (oh, god, Stiles had forgotten how delicious they were), inside the police cruiser, Stiles couldn’t help remembering the countless nights back home, spent with his father.

He smiled.

“We’ve just started the game.” Derek said. “I can’t believe you don’t have anything lower than a ten of spades.”

Stiles looked at the three of spades Derek had put down and back at his hand. “Oh, crap.” He muttered and some fries fell from his mouth and into his suit. “Oh, _crap_! Thank god it’s Friday.” Stiles knew there was a reason he had waited to buy the curly fries.

Derek rolled his eyes, smacking Stiles’ hand that was about to retrieve the ten of spades away. “No take backs. It will teach you to not play cards _and_ angry birds at the same time.” Derek said like Stiles was nothing but a misbehaved kid.

Stiles swalloed the curly fries. “Fuck you.” He said, storing his phone back into his pocket and throwing the cards away, scattering them all over the police vehicle.

“You’re picking that up.” Derek said with a tilting and over expressive eyebrow.

“Whatever. Let’s do something else.”

“What?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Stiles said, trying to push from his mind a picture of him jumping Derek and attacking his mouth, because he wasn’t even sure if Derek liked him like that (he was pretty sure by now that Derek liked him, _somehow_ ) and he was not one to handle rejection. The eleven years he spent pinning over Lydia Martin before blurting (it was more like babbling) his feelings were proof that.

“Stiles.” Derek called softly, almost fondly, like he always did anytime Stiles got too lost in his own thoughts. He had this _look_ , Derek said once.

“I’m thinking.” Stiles said, leaning against the headboard and beating his fingers against it. Stiles started to think about what his dad and him used to do in the police cruiser, besides eating, Stiles babbling and listening to the radio channel for anything interesting although his father always told him to ignore it – yeah, sure, he’s going to ignore the police chatter. Sometimes, it felt like Stiles was in a procedural cop show, how cool was that? There was no way Stiles wasn’t going to listen in for a potential murder!

“Stiles.” Derek called again.

“Oh, I know. Let’s play I see!” Stiles said, jumping in his seat.

Derek looked at him weirdly, but shrugged. “Okay, you start.”

“Oh, okay. Let’s see.” Stiles looked around, trying to find something that would give Derek a hard time. It was pretty hard, though. “I spot with my little eye something big and green.”

Derek chuckled. “You’re an idiot.” He said, bumping their shoulders.

Stiles tucked his tongue out. “And you’re no fun.” He accused, leaning towards the back seats, looking for his cards.

\---

Derek was in his patrol cruiser when his phone started to ring and it was Stiles calling. Derek quickly pressed the call button. “Yeah, Stiles, is everything okay?” He asked, feeling his heart starting to beat faster.

Stiles laughed. “Oh, you really worry about me, don’t you? You put on a sour face but it’s just to keep strangers and assholes at bay, isn’t it? You’re actually a big fluffy care bear.” Stiles teased and the little shit was being so smug it was driving Derek crazy.

“Yeah, apparently I wasn’t able to keep a particular asshole at bay.” He muttered.

Stiles outright laughed this time.

“Did you called for something or was it just to laugh at my expense?” Derek asked.

“Oh, right. Actually, nothing is okay. I have to prepare my first case for tomorrow, which I don’t expect you to miss, by the way, and I am buried under tons of paper and documents and information and I’m panicking and I think I’m going to spend the night here because I feel completely and ridiculously unprepared. So I won’t be able to get you coffee, although I think I’m going to drown myself in it.”

“How many cups of coffee have you had already?” Derek questioned, a smile forming in his lips.

“I’m on my sixth. And the coffee has nothing to do with my babbling. Coffee actually calms me and helps me to focus, mind you.” Stiles told him.

“You seem calm.”

“Ah-ha. I hate you. I would be much worse right now without all of the coffee, for your information.” Stiles warned.

“If you were babbling more and, Stiles, I can hear you clicking your pen right now at a thousand miles a second, the apocalypse would be coming.” Derek joked.

“I don’t know why I called you. You’re not even my friend anymore. You’re the devil.” Stiles babbled, taking a deep breath.

Derek sighed. “Stiles, calm down. You’re wonderful. You’ve been preparing for your first hearing for weeks. Every day this past week has practically consisted of you blurting out and memorizing every little detail of every little file of this case. You couldn’t be more prepared. Just breathe and try to get some sleep.”

Stiles breathed out, doing what he was told for once. “You’re right, thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” Stiles asked.

“Yeah, you will.” Derek said, being left with the beep that meant Stiles had hanged up, so he put down his phone as well.

He sighed, for the first time realizing that he wished he was there when Stiles got home today, to comfort and snuggle him and fall asleep next to him. Suddenly, and perhaps not so sudden at all, Derek decided enough was enough. Stiles made him feel in ways that Derek had sworn he would never feel again and it was alright.

They challenged each other but also trusted and care for each other. And although he knew that they still had a lot to learn about each other, he wanted Stiles and he wanted to date him.

He would ask Stiles out the next day, after his first hearing and hopefully, Stiles would feel the same.  

\---

Stiles took a big bite from his strawberry filling filled waffle and moaned when the sweetness of it exploded in his mouth.

Derek chuckled beside him.

“Shut up.” Stiles said before Derek even uttered a single word. “I kicked ass in court today so I totally deserve anything my heart desires. And right now, strawberry filling is it.” Suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious, Stiles turned his head abruptly to look at Derek, who was staring at him with an expression of fondness shifting to worry while he ended up taking a sip from his coffee – black, as always. “I kicked ass, didn’t I? I mean, I kind of babbled too much and the jury kind of looked at me weirdly and the defense attorney kind of made fun of me that one time, although the judge shut him down and I really put him in his place later, but I got my point across, right?” Stiles asked… okay, more like babbled and Derek took a bite from his sourdoughm his answer lost when he tasted the cream filling.

“Stiles.” He said through a moan. “What is this?” Derek asked, holding the doughnut as far away from his face as possible, like it could bite him at any given second.

“It’s good, isn’t it? You went to see me today and so I thought you deserved a little sweetness as a reward. You don’t hate it, do you?” Stiles asked, suddenly worried.

“No, it’s just… different.” Derek conceads, looking from the doughnut to Stiles, wearing this unreadable expression. He then shook his head, features suddenly taken over by something close to doubt by just a second, before that was swept away as well. “You did great today Stiles and despite being just the first day of the trial, I think you have the upper hand.”

Stiles smiled widely and bumped his fist into Derek’s shoulder. “Thanks, dude.”

“You’re welcome.” Derek answered.

They ate in silence and Stiles actually caught Derek staring at him through the corner of his eye and, since he thought no one was actually looking at him, his expression was clear the way Stiles has only seen it when he makes Derek laugh, like really laugh, or when he let the hurt in his eyes sip through when he talked about his ex-girlfriend. The expression he carried right now was filled with wonder, doubt, insecurity, fear and hope.

There was obviously something on Derek’s mind, but Stiles knew Derek enough by now to know that despite having a heart the size of the world didn’t meant the guy could or even wanted to convey all those feelings into actual words.

So he waited until they finished their snacks, tapping his feet in nowhere near the rhythm of the piano playing in low volume, something Stiles had grown accustomed to, though he still preferred music with a little more of a beat to it, as background noise.

 “Do you want to go on a date with me?” Derek blurted out and Stiles head snapped to stare at Derek’s unsure and hopeful expression.

“What?” Stiles asked because he must’ve heard wrong, his eyes focusing on the leftover cream on Derek’s chin and he had to shake his head to keep his mind from going into forbidden territory. There’s no way Derek wanted to actually go on a date with him - with Stiles. No way.

“It’s okay if you don’t.” Derek was quick to blurt out, although Stiles didn't miss the pinch of disappointment in Derek’s voice.

“No, I mean, really? Do you want to go on a date with me? With kisses and hand holding where there is attraction of the sexual nature involved and actual sexual acts.” Stiles asked, nonchalantly.

“Yeah.” Derek said with a half grimace and a half shrug, blushing, looking so adorable and so far off from the smug and confident Derek he seemed to be at times that Stiles couldn't resist but smile widely, leaning in his seat and licking the cream out of Derek’s chin, moving his hands softly through Derek’s hair.

Derek smiled too, moving his hands to cup Stiles’ face, first brushing his lips against Stiles’ and then placing a soft kiss there, with no tongue, just a tender and sweet press of lips until Stiles’ other hand fisted at Derek’s uniform and pulled him forward, urging Derek on top of him and Derek followed the prompt, grabbing Stiles by the hips and pushing him further unto the seat.

The kiss deepened and Stiles could feel the slight taste of black coffee and cream as he wrestled Derek’s tongue and licked the interior of his mouth, moaning into Derek’s mouth as the older man sent off a growl that rumbled all through Stiles’ body, pressing him tightly against the seat as he rocked their hips together.

Stiles tightened his hold on Derek’s hair as his other hand brushed through Derek’s broad and muscled shoulders. Derek’s hands moved from Stiles hips to his thighs, lifting his legs and yearning him to wrap them around Derek’s waist as their kisses became sloppier, noisier and wetter.

Derek left Stiles' lips and pressed his face against Stiles’ cheek, rubbing his stubble through Stiles’ pale and soft skin and it felt even better than Stiles imagined, Derek pressing kisses to his jaw and down his throat, biting hard on Stiles’ neck, making him let out a cry while pulling Derek’s head closer into his skin as the older man lickrf and mouthed at the newly formed bruise.

“Oh, _god_ , Derek.” Stiles mumbled and his voice was so wrecked already, his breath fast and shallow.

“You bruise so easily.” Derek noted, voice mirroring Stiles’ as he bit again, Stiles arching his neck closer to Derek’s teeth, feeling a sense of rush filling him upon the realization that he could make Derek feel so destroyed as he himself felt at this instant.

“Even if I didn’t, you bite hard as fuck, not that I’m complaining or anything.” Stiles said and Derek chuckled, the sound muffled against Stiles’ skin as Derek stopped nibbling at his neck and pressed quick and insistent kisses against Stiles’ lips as the younger man yearned to keep up with the older man’s rhythm, leaving him completly breathless.

When Derek pulled out of the kiss, smashing their foreheads together as they both fought to catch back their breaths, their warm breaths meshing in one.

Stiles hands found their way to Derek’s shirt and his long fingers started unbuttoning the older man’s uniform, yanking it off and then removing his white tank top, Stiles’ eyes locking in Derek’s defined six pack and _holy god_ , that was both unfair and unnatural. It had to be.

“How many times a week do you work out?” Stiles asked.

“Enough.” Derek said with a smug grin.

“Fuck you.” Stiles replied, smashing his lips into Derek’s chest, placing wet open-mouthed kisses along Derek’s skin. He could feel Derek’s surprised growl resonating and rumbling against his hands sprawled across Derek’s sides, against his lips laying on Derek's skin, reverberating then through Stiles’ own body.

Derek landed a hand on Stiles' head, bringing him up into a kiss, loosening even more of Stiles’ tie (yeah, because he hated those things and always loosened them up the minute he got out of work, thank you very much) and unbuttoning his suit button-down shirt, dropping to bite and nibble at Stiles’ nipples, making him whine and turning his nipples red and hard and then biting several other bruises all across Stiles’ skin and mouthing at his teeth traces.

“You really have a marking fetish, don’t you?” Stiles muttered and he whined once again when Derek bit hard against his flesh, coming up and placing a long deep kiss into Stiles’ mouth that made him moan and that made Derek groan into each other's mouths.

Stiles’ hand dropped from Derek’s shoulders where they’d settled while Derek attacked his body and wandered to Derek’s uniform belt, unbuckling it and unzipping his pants, freeing his cock that was already half hard and leaking pre-cum.

“Fuck, that’s big.” Stiles uttered out, and it wasn’t even completely hard yet.

He grabbed Derek’s dick and started stroking it, smirking when the older man groaned and dropped his head against Stiles shoulders, his hands going to Stiles’ pants and freeing him as well.

Derek started to stroke Stiles’ cock and _oh fuck_ that felt awesome!

Then, Derek leaned his hip forward until their dicks were close enough that Derek was able to grab both of them in his hand, pulling the skin up and down, stroking them faster and harder and Stiles widenrf his grip so he was able to hold both their dicks as well, both of them a moaning and panting mess as they stroked and rocked their slick cocks together, slipping and rubbing against each other’s skin, sticky and wet from both their pre-cums.

And then, kind of at the same time, they were both cumming into Stiles’ belly, releasing a last moan, deep and guttural and more like a growl on Derek’s hand as he collapsed on top of Stiles, both of them just trying to get their breaths’ even.

“Fuck.” Stiles muttered once the afterglow softened enough he remeberd how to speak and Derek chuckled, getting himself off of Stiles and placing a sloppy and dirty kiss against his lips, leaning away to grab a tissue and cleaning Stiles’ chest, filled with both of their cums.

Then he was back in his seat and they were both getting dressed, Stiles suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious about just jerking off in a car, a police car, at a side of the road. Thank God for the billboard hiding them from any passerby cars.

Stiles finds the doorknob and turns to Derek. “So I guess our mid night encounters are over, at least for a while so, please call me because of that date.” Stiles said, opening the door.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Derek asked.

“Huh?”

“That you liked me.”

“Oh, I knew you would _if_ you liked me and when you felt ready. Actually, you wouldn’t really consider it until you were sure enough that you would ask me yourself, so there was really no point in me actually asking you out.” Stiles said and Derek arched his eyebrows, seeming kind of surprised.

“How did you know?” He asked.

“I wouldn’t really consider it either, if I wasn’t sure. You and me aren’t that different, Sourpuss.” Stiles said and he could hear Derek’s growl at the nickname before closing the door and wandering back to his jeep.

“Stiles.” Derek called through his now open window.

“Yeah?”

“We’re taking this slower from now on.” Derek warned.

Stiles smirked. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

\---

Derek closed his window and watched Stiles leave in his jeep.

When the jeep was out of sight and he was left alone in the night again, only the sound of the gentle piano coming through the radio giving him company, did Derek shook his head.

This was definitely the best and the worst decision he’d ever made. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you at least did not hate it!
> 
> P.S. It has come to my attention that this many tickets would 1) make your car insurance be in the dirt and 2) revoke your license. To be fair, I hate doing research and I don't have a car =P.


End file.
